


We all owe death a life

by pixiedurango



Series: The Arya Trevelyan Files [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arya Trevelyan - Freeform, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Death Wish, Explicit Language, F/M, Nightmares, Serious Injuries, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 00:15:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3957253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiedurango/pseuds/pixiedurango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angst-Prompt from Firgolfin: "Blackwall gets injured while protecting inquisitor" </p><p>While exploring the Western Approach, Arya, Blackwall, Varric and Bull are ambushed by a huge number of darkspawn.<br/>The fight does not go very well...</p>
            </blockquote>





	We all owe death a life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Firgolfin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firgolfin/gifts).



> Still pre-revelations.  
> Set after Camp-Night-Encounter

 

 

That canyon path they had found after crossing the sulfur pits in the Western Approach turned out to be a nightmare. What simply started as a brief encounter with some random darkspawn soon became a deadly skirmish that quickly seemed to get out of hand for the Inquisition-fighters.

„Makers balls Blackwall, you could have warned us for this place is overcrowded with fucking darkspawn!” Arya yelled over the place in fierce anger, while shooting her chain-lightnings onto a bunch of darkspawn who were about to narrow down Blackwall. Her voice echoed from the canyon-walls and hit him more than the physical pain he already suffered by the merciless hits he had to block from this Alpha who was his main attacker now.

„Will apologize later, they were just so many that they... overwhelmed my... senses...” the warrior managed to make up and shout back. He sounded already breathless while he swung his massive axe around in order to slay or at least weaken as many of the attackers as possible. This Alpha seemed to be invincible and Blackwall felt that he would run out of chances if they would not come up with a decent plan B soon.

„You better make up a fucking good apology for this is going to be a massacre! I will kick your ass for this later!” Blackwall had never seen Arya in a fury like this but he could not afford to worry about that now. Not about that she may be in danger and not about that she was close of suspecting something... He knew that he had to stop thinking and let the killer-reflexes do the work if he wanted to survive and so he dragged away his thoughts from what distracted him and fought.

„Could you two love-birds please stop and help the dwarf, please?” Varric had no option for finding higher ground in here so he found himself suddenly circled by darkspawn, too. He already ran out of explosives and since he also was short of bolts he used Bianca like a club and swung her in order to smash the Hurlocks’ skulls or to tear them apart with the sharp edges of his heavily tuned-up crossbow.

Arya shot more of her lightning bolts and suddenly the air sparkled from electricity when a thunderstorm appeared out of nothing. Blackwall knew her storm-abilities intensified depending on her mood. He’d never seen a storm heavy like this summoned by her so he knew she was beyond fury. The blasts ripped some of the weaker Hurlocks apart, blood and intestines spilled all over the place and her battle-cries filled the canyon, multiplied by the echo.

„Bull! Report! Can’t see ya!” she yelled now trying to get an overview.

The Qunari was caught in his own blood-rage but still he was soldier enough to react on superior orders.

„Hard shit, Boss! Could need help! More approaching. More Alphas.”

„Fuck! Bull, Blackwall move closer so you can fight back to back! Varric stay back, try to recollect bolts but stay back! I’ll help Bull and Blackwall!”

„My Lady, no!” Blackwall growled in a wave of sudden fear for her getting hurt. „They’ll crush you! Stay back yourself.” He and Bull already had managed to team up as she had commanded.

But the Alphas still came after him grunting and growling and their giant hammers smashed down again and again with no mercy and almost not to block. Blackwalls muscles burned from the raw power slamming on his axe again and again. He got cuts from blades all over and his armor was torn so vulnerable body parts laid bare and he had to pay more attention in order to protect him self. Well, he should have paid more attention. But he simply could not because he was only able to react to the brutish force that was raining down on him and he could not spare energy on anything else.

The running adrenaline, his own blood-frenzy numbed all pain. And though he knew it would distract him he had started to worry about her.

Blackwall knew that she wouldn’t listen. As usual when it came to her fighting manners.

He was right.

Next thing he heard was the „whoosh” when she summoned her giant glimmering magic blade. She loved that spell and she mastered it with excellence. It was a glorious sight when she used it but still she had no heavy armor and if only one of this abominations would get a hit on her, she would not survive it.

And there she was.

Like a goddess of war she appeared in her raging fury close to Bull and Blackwall pushing forward into melee-range. Screaming wild curses while she wielded her golden blade and cut one of the minor attackers in half with her first blow. Her body moved elegant and graceful. Like she was dancing a deadly dance. Blackwall had to drag his glance away from her, he could not afford staring at her as beautiful as she was, if he did he would go down. This he could not allow to happen. He had to protect her at all costs.

She summoned it again and again, hacked through walking dead flesh and eliminated the minor threats one after another until she finally ran out of magic to cast again. Now she only had her staff until she had recovered her magic but she did not care and used its staff-blade to weaken the one Alpha who was obviously the most injured of the bunch.

„Good boy!” she yelled already turning to the next target, when it finally fell.

„Hyenas! Fucking hyenas from behind!” Varric suddenly roared and his voice kept a panicking tremble none of the companions had ever heard from the dwarf before.

So they were about to be narrowed down from two sides. Alphas on the front, beast on their back - their way out was cut off.

Arya saw that Blackwall was running out of strength and options. He stood. Barely. Was still able to block but he had not too much more to throw in to weaken the attackers. Just protecting his self but he won’t be able to maintain that forever. Bull was doing slightly better but was also about to run out of strength. The Qunari just drove one of his horns into the throat of one of the abominations and with a well aimed bolt she blew the corpse off the horn which he acknowledged with a grunt in her direction.

„Bull, help Blackwall!” she demanded, but right that second two of the remaining alphas turned on the Qunari so he had to take care for him self first.

She quickly checked: Potions were out so they would not be able to buy them more time to change fates.

Arya made a decision. She was not willing to sacrifice anyone and especially not Blackwall for a path no one knew where it would lead them. They could come back later. With more men and better strategy for they knew now what to expect.

„Retreat! Run! We better do the hyena to open the way out than wasting ourselves to that darkspawn fuckers!” Aria cried in despair. With a quick glance she made sure that all of them got her order and obeyed then she whirled around to run towards the raging pack of predators in front of her.

The Alphas were not quite the brightest. Dumb fighting machines with enormous weight and for that slow and immobile. Blackwall managed to turn away from his attacker and bring some distance between them. He was already about to collapse for he had lost a fair amount of blood and suffered from several bruises and he was sure at least some of his ribs were cracked. Breathing hurt like hell and for a short moment he was all about letting go.

End his pathetic existence right here. At least dying as a kind of hero while fighting for the Inquisition.

He was almost giving in when he saw Arya trip while approaching the hyenas to clear the path to retreat. She cried in surprise and pain and he saw her stumble, saw her fall. At least she was able to catch the fall with a roll but could not change direction and so she fell directly amongst the raging hyena pack. She laid on her back, mounted by a wild bunch of predators slobbering over her. Snapping, trying to dig their teeth in her flesh and rip her apart. Desperately she tried to defend herself with the sharp end of her staff, summoning blasts and lightnings with her right hand with what she had left from her magic but Blackwall saw that she would never be able to gain advantage and free herself from the position she had stumbled into.

This he would never allow.

The woman he loved was not to die as long as there was one last spark of life inside him. He did not feel the pain anymore, his broken ribs crunched when he charged one last time and he urged forward with all he got left and a bit more.

His war cry echoed from the canyon walls already pushing some of the beasts away from her. His axe slammed a rift in the ground which expanded and caught flames in an instant.

„Filly! Away!“ he roared and she rolled herself off from the earthshaking rift just in the last moment.

Blackwall could not think anymore, he just raged forward slaying the hyenas. One after another died in his fury. Not because they blocked their retreat but simply for the fact that they endangered Arya.

Bull and Varric tried to back up their retreat by keeping the Alphas at a distance and Arya was activating her last resources to help them. Using her staff was all she had left to give for she again had run out of enough magic to summon any more powerful lightnings.

She forbid herself to turn around and look how Blackwall was doing. She had to take care not to trip again for her ankle hurt ridiculously bad. She had to focus on her magic in order to be of some help. She could not afford to let herself get distracted. She just heard him roar and grunt in her back.

But when there suddenly was silence, her heart dropped and she could not help and whirled around.

Dead hyenas everywhere and in the middle of the dead flock _him_. Motionless. Face in the dirt. His axe few feet beside him in the bloody sand.

„Blackwall!” she cried.

She ran. Limped. She did not care for the pain because her heart wrenched.

Bull surpassed her and grabbed the massive warrior from the floor like Blackwall was of no weight and threw him over his shoulder like a pile of cloth while still running towards the canyons end to find the stairs.

Blackwall moaned in agony and pain but for Arya it was the most precious sound she ever heard for it meant he was still alive.

She did not stop for she already was at the rear which meant she would be the one the Alphas grabbed if they just made it to approach fast enough. They were wounded and for that slowed down but definitely not giving up so far and still moving.

Varric was already at the stairs that led down to the bridge over the sulfur pits and Bull was about to be there, too.

She turned around and saw two Alphas trying to approach. Limping and grunting in their own fury.

There was Blackwalls axe. A huge and heavy weapon. She picked it up with a groan and swung it over her head not realizing that under normal circumstances it would have been impossible for her even to lift it up let alone throwing it. But the adrenaline, the fear, the rage, gave her the power to do it. The axe ended up in the skull of one of the Alphas which immediately fell down to its knees. Hit the ground.

One left. Still approaching.

She ran again, then one last thought. She stopped one last time and took her staff. It was the last weapon she had left.

Changing the grip she now held the rod like a spear, staff-blade ahead. She aimed at another skull and let it off with a raw cry of fury.

„Die, fucker! I’m gonna teach you messing with the Inquisition!”

Another skull cracked. They were gone! But at what cost? She suddenly whimpered and sobbed.

She did not think anymore. Just moved.

Finally she entered the stairs. Stumbled. Barely holding herself. Varric rushed to help. Bull with his unconscious comrade on his shoulder was almost down at the foot of the stairs already, wasting no time to get to the healers.

She would live.

 _He_ would live. She hoped.

~ ~ ~

The healers wanted her to stay in her tent. To stay there for treatment and to rest. Stop the bleeding. Care for her ankle. Cool the bruises. Stitch the cuts and bites.

She needed time to recover they said.

There was no reasoning with her.

She chugged a potion and left.

„Where is he?” she demanded still in the aftermath of her fury. Still not feeling pain due to the adrenaline rush. „Blackwall! Where is he? Where are Bull and Varric? _Where is my team_?” No one dared to answer.

„We are here, Boss. And alright.” The Iron Bull sounded surprisingly calm and soothing.

Her head snapped around to see the Qunari and the Dwarf sitting on the step leading up to the flagpole where the banner of the Inquisition waved in the hot desert wind.

They already had patched their wounds and were checking on their armor and weapons.

She hurried over to them as fast as she could with her sprained ankle. She put each a hand on their shoulders then suddenly fell to her knees, dragging them both in her arms as much of them she could handle. Both men put one arm around their Inquisitor and hold her.

They remained in that strange group-hug for a long moment and only the two of them realized that she was silently sobbing and trembling. They understood. They held her. And they wouldn’t tell.

„He is in the second tent over there on the right, Thunderbolt.” Varric eventually said in a low voice not recognizing that he just had found his nickname for her.

When they finally broke the embrace and she stood straight up again, no one could imagine that she had been just at the edge of a breakdown few moments ago.

„Good work you two. I owe you some!” she hesitated, then in a much softer, lower voice. „Thank you.” She looked into Bulls eyes with her last words and he just nodded. „And now I’m going to take care that this bastard survives for I can kill him later!” she blurted nastier than necessary and stronger than she actually felt and limped over to the tent where her lover was fighting death.

~ ~ ~

Gray face. Motionless. Like stone.

Framed by dark hair. _Why had no one bothered to take away the ugly clots of gore and bloody mud that were still sticking in it?_

They had removed the shattered armor. Cut off his bloodstained tunic. Freed him from his heavy boots. Left his breeches on for they only had some minor cuts but the blades and teeth had not gone through to cut the flesh.

Barely she could see his chest moving up and down. Fragile this motion was as if it could fade for good every second.

Arya stayed back watching the healers do their work. The tent was filled with the overwhelming scent of herbs and death. She suddenly realized that tears were running down her cheeks and a painful sob tried to escape her. She whimpered almost inaudible, then stiffed her back, wiped the tears away in a stubborn gesture and stepped forward.

„Let me help!” she demanded and her voice allowed no objection so the healers let her kneel down next to him without arguing.

Her fingers were ice cold when she put her hand on his forehead. He flinched, turning his head in an unwilling gesture groaning. _Was it the unexpected cold or the touch itself?_

„I’m sorry” she whispered unsure if he’d even hear her. She did not know whether she apologized for making him flinch or for being responsible that he had to be here in this condition.

Arya had only minor healing skills but she tried to help where she could. She even did not bother to assist with the dirty work, washing away blood from his body, collecting bloody cloth from the floor taking it out and holding things while the more skilled healers did their work. She cleaned his hair and beard removing the gross things still clinging in it.

Finally they had done everything in their powers to patch Blackwall together. They had made him swallow potions, put soothing ointments on his bruises and bandaged his stitches. The huge bruise over his cracked ribs was showing a nasty black-purple color and when she carefully applied some healing balm he moaned in agony. She hold him up - his painful groans almost broke her heart - while one of the healers applied a stiff bandage around his chest to stabilize it and when she let him down to rest again, his breath was kind of rattling.

„If he keeps on breathing until tomorrow morning, he will live.” the head of the healers predicted. He was an elderly quiet mage with tired eyes, a coil of gray hair and calloused but surprisingly swift and gentle hands. She swallowed hard but nodded. _Half a day and all night of waiting_. Hoping. „Now, child. You cannot do any more here at the moment. Let us take care for you. Afterwards you may return back to his side. He needs you strong and focused. I watched you. You are a warrior, no healer though I can show you a few more spells that will ease his pain and may be useful in the future.”

She simply nodded and went with him for she had no strength left to argue.

~ ~ ~

She hurried to wash and get rid of her armor. She had a bite of some stale bread and finally let the healers look after her.

When she returned she was thankful for feeling clean, having some comfy clothing and that the pain was under control. _Her worries were not._

He laid as she had left him. Barely breathing, pale and motionless.

She stepped closer and put her hand on the shoulder of the young apprentice who sat by his sickbed.

„You may go have some rest now. I will take care for him.” the girl nodded obediently and hushed out of the tent.

Arya took herself another bedroll and rolled it out next to him. It was going to be a long shift and she was more exhausted than she wanted to admit.

Every full hour she was supposed to make him swallow some more of the healing potion and every three hours she had to renew the herbal patches on his wounds and the healing balm. Beside that she had nothing more than sitting beside him, holding his hand and trying not to burst into tears.

The nightmares set in not long after sundown.

She must have been dozing because she startled up when Blackwall began to groan.

She had heard him groaning from physical pain several times today.

This one was different.

Something deeper even more gruesome was tormenting the warrior now.

She rushed closer seeing his eyes flicker. _Were there words coming out between this groans?_ She could not tell. She did not care. Was just trying to drag him close without hurting him or make him feel cramped.

„Shhhhh. Blackwall.” She whispered while trailing her fingers through his hair warily. „I’m here. Everything will be alright. Just come back. Breathe! Please, keep on breathing.”

Suddenly he stiffened, his eyes sprang open wandering around with a haunted almost insane glimpse. His head tilted and he stared at her, his eyes strangely empty.

„Must... save the children!”

_What children?_

She did not ask. Knew she would get no answer.

„We are safe...” she replied instead, secretly hoping she did the right thing. And after all she was not lying, they _were_ safe now. She would have to ask about this children later.

A deep breath lifted his chest and he closed his eyes again but his unconsciousness seemed to change now slowly into a deep sleep. His breath was still rattling but deeper now.

Whenever the nightmares returned, she tried to ease his pain, without waking him up so he could have his rest without being haunted by what ever was lingering deep within.

There were more words between the groans and noises of terror. She heard them but could not make anything up from it.

It was a long night. Now and then she fell into a light slumber but whenever he moved or began to dream again she rushed closer and held him until he was quiet.

It was almost around dawn, when Blackwall woke up. Disorientated first, eyes wandering around trying to understand where he was.

„Arya...” his voice was hoarse.

„I’m here Blackwall.”

His hand was reaching out for hers, she grabbed it and knelt at his side so he could see her.

„You are alive... I did the right thing... at least once...” he closed his eyes, voice was fading from exhaustion.

_He was about to give up..._

She suddenly realized what he was trying to tell her...

She was not ready to accept that.

„Blackwall! You have to fight! You can do this!”

His headshake was barely visible.

„I fought all my life. It’s done now. You live. That’s all that counts. I do not matter.”

That was unlikely to happen.

Arya brought her face close to his. Her hands grabbing his cheeks. This made him open his eyes once more.

„You have sworn to protect me with your life, Blackwall!” she managed to find her Inquisitors voice.

„Aye, my lady!” a soldiers answer.

„Have I yet released you from this oath?” her eyes seemed to emit purple sparks of lightning.

„No, my lady.” almost inaudible.

„Then fuckin’ pursue on fulfilling it!” she hissed and did not recognize that tears were falling from her eyes now. „Don’t go like this. Live, Blackwall!”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath again. It hurt. But it was only his cracked ribs as he suddenly realized. The real pain was deeper. Deep inside.

It had been so tempting. Let lose. Letting it all go. Sliding into the black. No more guilt, no more doubts, no more pain. Just silence.

But he could not see this woman cry over him. Why did she do that? What did earn him the honor that the Herald of Andraste, The Inquisitor was crying over him? Still after all this time being with her he failed to understand the reasons for her affection.

But maybe she was sent to him so he could finally become a better man. His key to find redemption. If he would stop being a coward, he could really become what he just pretended to be. A good man. With her. He would like that, he realized.

But first he had to obey the wish of his lady.

„Arya... Filly!” he screeched. „Don’t you cry. I am not worth a single tear. Just lay beside me. I’m tired.” His hand reached for her face and carefully wiped away her tears. „I’m not going anywhere without you, don’t you know?”

 


End file.
